


Find Me In The Night

by smolsarcasticraspberry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Earth AU, F/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Shallura Holiday Month 2017, a winter fic, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolsarcasticraspberry/pseuds/smolsarcasticraspberry
Summary: "Ah, yes. Charged particles from your local star interact with the magnetic field of the planet in areas where the magnetic field lines are close together."Shiro laughs, in spite of himself. She's the nerdiest princess he's ever met. Not that he's met many, of course. Or any at all, before her."We call it an aurora. It's beautiful, isn't it?"***When aliens land on Earth looking for a mysterious weapon under the Arctic ice, Captain Shirogane of the Galaxy Garrison is tasked with accompanying an alien Princess in her quest.





	1. fairy lights

**Author's Note:**

> for shalluraholidays, a winter fic that combines... basically half the prompts in one go lol. this is an AU set before the Kerberos mission, so Shiro has his pre-Kerberos look (no scar/white hair/prosthetic). this will be two chapters eventually, although the second chapter might be a bit longer than the first. anyway thanks for reading!

Alteans don't do well with cold, apparently.

Princess Allura shivers next to him, even bundled up in multiple layers. Her eyes peek out through the gap between her hood and the scarf that covers most of her face, and she rubs her hands together, shoulders hunched, elbows tucked into her body. She stomps her feet restlessly, and her boots sink deep into the snow.

She looks cute, nonetheless.

"You feel anything?" Shiro asks her.

Allura shakes her head. "Only the cold. Do people really live her?"

"Some people like it," he shrugs. The wind bites at his face, and he digs his hands further into his pockets. It's well below freezing, and the cold is so deep it feels ancient and unshakeable, like permafrost creeping along his bones.

"We have some equipment back on the ship," Allura says, her voice muffled by the scarf that covers her mouth. "Sensors and such. With that I should be able to locate it."

"You know it would be easier to come back in summer. Less snow? More sunshine? It would be light twenty-four hours a day."

"Yes, you mentioned. Your planet's axial tilt, correct?"

Shiro nods. He's still not used to the fact that he's talking to real actual alien. From another world.

A _cute_ alien.

"Unfortunately, we can't afford to waste any more time," Allura says. "It already took us longer than it should have to come to an agreement."

Shiro says nothing. He wonders if he's in for another lecture over dinner about Earth's lack of an international policy on alien first contact. It's been nearly six weeks and Allura is _still_ annoyed about it.

"At least we came at the right time to catch the light show," he says, in an effort to distract her.

He gestures up and out towards the horizon, and Allura turns to look. The aurora paints the sky in vivid ribbons of green and pink that dance in the dark, veiling the stars and bathing the snow-capped mountains in ethereal light.

"Ah, yes. Charged particles from your local star interact with the magnetic field of the planet in areas where the magnetic field lines are close together."

Shiro laughs, in spite of himself. She's the nerdiest princess he's ever met. Not that he's met many, of course. Or any at all, before her.

"We call it an aurora. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Allura seems to consider this. Her eyes stray from the horizon to the sky above them, and she watches the swirl of light, her eyes sparkling in the darkness.

"I suppose it is," she admits. "I've never seen such a phenomenon from below."

"You like it?"

"It's still cold."

"You come from a planet where rocks fall from the sky," Shiro points out.

"Yes, but at least it's warm."

Still, her eyes linger on the dancing lights, and she glances behind her as they trudge back up the hill to the welcoming warmth of the research base.

 

Allura is still grumbling about the cold as Shiro pushes open the doors of the protective dome that houses Galaxy Garrison's Arctic Research Station. The inside is only marginally warmer than the outside air, but there's packed earth underfoot instead of snow, and the wind is kept at bay by the thick glass panels. The glass also obscures the lights of the aurora, so that instead of a pattern of swirling curtains there's just a blur of blues and greens and pinks.

Iverson stands near the entrance, deep in conversation with Coran. Behind them, the enclosed space of the dome is packed with hab-units; some offices and labs and some communal areas for eating and socialising.

"Captain!" Iverson calls as they enter. He hands a tablet to a subordinate and stomps over, Coran tailing him like a moustached comet. "Any news on that Lion?"

"No, sir," Shiro tells him. The man looks annoyed; but then, that's nothing unusual. Iverson hates the cold almost as much as the Alteans.

"You couldn't detect its energy, Princess?" Coran asks.

Allura shakes her head. "There's too much interference from the ice. And the uh… the aurora doesn't help. The planet's magnetic field is very dense in this region."

"You assured us this weapon was out here," Iverson says. He gives Allura a sceptical look.

"It is," she says defensively, and Shiro feels the need to interrupt before she chews Iverson's head off.

"We'll begin a proper search tomorrow," he says smoothly. "We'll bring out some equipment and lights and map out search quadrants so we don't miss anything."

"It's possible the Lion is beneath the sea ice," Allura continues. "In which case we'll have to consider some drastic measures to retrieve it."

"That's probably why Princess Allura couldn't detect it straight away," Shiro says.

Iverson still looks unconvinced, but Coran claps him hard on the shoulder before he can say anything else.

"Not to worry, Commander!" Coran says cheerfully. "We'll have that Lion out of there faster than you can say klanmurl-disqrztbalr!"

"Before I can say what?"

"Ah, here comes the equipment now!" Coran declares, as a snowtruck rolls past and comes to a halt in the open space between the hab-units. Coran bustles off to deal with the unloading, already shouting instructions to the dome's personnel. Iverson glances after him, before he shoots Shiro a meaningful look.

"Shiro, make sure our royal guest is comfortable," he says. "That is why you're here, isn't it?"

Shiro opens his mouth to reply, but Iverson is already stomping off after Coran, barking orders at the Garrison personnel unloading boxes and crates from the snowtruck. A dozen or so aliens of various races work alongside the humans from Galaxy Garrison, and the bustle of activity picks up pace under the Commander's watchful eye and Coran's admonitions to handle the Altean equipment with care. Shiro finds himself, as usual, alone with Princess Allura.

"You know picking fights with Iverson isn't going to help us find this Lion faster," Shiro tells her.

She scowls. "He doesn't believe me. He doesn't think it's here."

"No. He doesn't. But if we find it," Shiro points out, "you can rub it in his face, and that'll be way more satisfying in the long run, don't you think?"

"I suppose," she concedes reluctantly. She glares at Iverson's back as if she's still considering picking him up and throwing him across the room, and Shiro searches for something to distract her.

"You need to eat," he tells her. "There's a mess hall around her somewhere."

She rolls her eyes at him. "You sound just like my nanny. Or Coran."

"I mean you need to eat because it's cold." He takes her gently by the elbow and steers her towards the largest of the hab-units. "Alteans metabolise food the same way as humans, right? You'll burn through more calories in the cold because your body's using energy to stay warm. Didn't you read the briefing?"

"Why would I read the briefings? You read them for me."

Shiro chuckles. "If you're not going to read them, can you at least trust me when I tell you what they say? Food. We need it. Come on."

 

That's why she keeps him around, apparently. Well, part of it. He's there to read the briefings and help her navigate Earth cultures, and look after her various whims and demands, and generally accompany her wherever she wants to go. Officially, that's his job. But there's more to the story; some other reason why she asked for him, specifically, and why she asked for him to be with her at all times. She gets cagey whenever he asks her about it. One day, she'll tell him why he's really here.

Technically, he's not supposed to be here at all; a mere Captain isn't high enough in ranks or security clearance to be tagging along with the elite science divisions on their top secret projects. Much less hanging out with an alien princess on a daily basis.

But she asked for him. By name. They'd had precisely one conversation that lasted all of five minutes, but… she asked for him specifically. And very insistently.

He still remembers the day they met.

* * *

The Galaxy Garrison throws a ball in honour of the Alteans, in some fancy manor house on the edge of town, and the younger officers form a guard of honour around the premises. It's partly for security; mostly for show. Iverson wants the place looking smart and professional, and a few dozen lieutenants and captains in their best dress uniforms gives the event an air of old-fashioned prestige.

Shiro stands on the edge of the room and watches the aliens mingle with the Earth guests. Some of them look like rocks and some of them look like bugs and one of them looks like a merman wearing a fishbowl on his head. But the Princess… she looks like something out of a fairy tale.

Her dress is huge and sweeping, blue and white and edged in gold. Strings of gold and jewels adorn her neck and wrists and catch the light every time she moves, and the gems set into her hair glow pink from their own inner light. Her eyes sparkle blue when she smiles or laughs - which she does often, in her circuits around the room, as she meets and greets the human dignitaries. She's like her own galaxy, fallen to Earth through some ancient magic, drifting around the room in human form.

Well. Almost human.

Shiro's pretty sure he's dreamed of her. Or maybe she's just so radiant the vision of her is being projected backwards in time through his memories, so that it seems like he's always been running towards her; towards this point, this moment, this place under the chandeliers.

He's not allowed to talk to her. It's a breach of protocol. But he can watch her and wonder.

She moves around the room accompanied by a small alien with pale green skin. An… Olkarian? Was that what they were called? Anyway, the alien is tiny and wears huge round lenses over her eyes that resemble spectacles. After a while, Shiro figures out the pattern in their movements.

The Princess scans the room as if she's looking for something - but always casually, always an idle glance over the top of a wine glass or while someone is talking. Occasionally she bends down to talk with the tiny Olkarian. Then she mingles again, but somehow with more purpose and deliberation. She talks to several high ranking officers, then scans the room surreptitiously whilst helping herself to canapes, then makes a beeline for a scientist. Casually, of course. Simply mingling with the flow of the room. Meeting and greeting, as any good Princess would.

But there's order to the chaos. A purpose to whom she chooses to speak with, even if Shiro can't figure it out.

And then she glances at him, and their eyes meet, and he's suddenly rooted to the spot. Her gaze flitters away almost instantly, but a moment later she bends down to speak to her companion. When she drifts through the crowd towards him, he's not even surprised.

"Excuse me, Captain," she says. "Could I trouble you to accompany me outside for a moment?"

He's not supposed to talk to her. But she's addressing him directly. He can't very well ignore her.

"Of course," he says, and follows her from the room.

The Olkarian trails after them, but as they cross the doorway from the ballroom to the corridor the Olkarian stops and says something to the doorman. Shiro glances over his shoulder in time to see the doors swing shut. And then suddenly he's alone in the corridor with the beautiful alien Princess and he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

She stops in front of a mirror with an ornate frame.

"Would you mind?" she asks. "I seem to be in a little trouble."

She reaches up and sweeps her hair back from the nape of her neck, and Shiro sees what she means: her necklaces are tangled over each other, and one of the clasps is caught in her hair.

"Sure," he says, because he doesn't know how else to respond. "Let me."

He sets to work on separating the necklaces and gently teases the chain that's hooked into her hair. This close to her, it's impossible to ignore the fact that her dress is cut low at the back. A line of pink circles runs down her spine, similar to the marks that adorn her cheeks, and up close Shiro can see the way they glimmer in the soft light.

He forces himself to look at the chains under his fingers; to focus only on untangling them. But she smells like… flowers, or summer, or something sweet and wild and otherworldly, and her hair is soft as he gently tugs the metal clasp out of it. He finishes his task as quickly as he can and steps away before he does something foolish, like run his fingers down the curve of her shoulders, press his lips into her hair, wrap his arms around her waist…

"Thank you," she says. She glances up at him in the mirror, and he catches the reflection of her gaze.

"Would you mind holding this for a moment?" She holds out her clutch to him, and he takes it wordlessly. With the assistance of the mirror, she begins to adjust the hang and drape of her necklaces to get them just how she wants them.

"What do you think of the party?" she asks.

Shiro shrugs. "It doesn't really matter what I think. It's mostly for you."

"Is it customary on your planet to throw parties such as this when you make contact with alien races?" She's satisfied with the necklaces, and moves on to straightening the bangles on her wrists.

"I don't know," Shiro says. "We've never met aliens before. We're just making it up as we go along."

It occurs to him that he should stop talking to her; or at least revert to some noncommittal answers. But she glances up at him and smiles slightly - just a tiny, amused quirk of the corner of her mouth, and he's utterly powerless.

"Yes, your Commander Iverson told me you have no protocol for first contact," the Princess says. She tilts her head this way and that, examining the set of her hair in the mirror and adjusting some of the gemstones. "He called this a welcome party."

"I think he's mostly doing it to impress you," Shiro says, whilst a tiny rational scrap of his brain screams at him that he's definitely going to get fired for this.

The Princess turns to face him, and meets his gaze for real. Her eyes shimmer, pink and blue, and she smiles at him: not the easy, casual smile she threw around in the ballroom, but something else. A little more knowing; a little more mischievous.

"Do you think it's working?" she asks.

Shiro smiles back. He can't help it.

"I doubt it," he says. "I suspect it takes a lot more than this to impress you."

"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I can be impressed by simple things. Like honesty, for example."

He doesn't have a good response to that. He's pretty sure he's blushing. The Princess takes her bag from his unresisting hands, and glances at the name badge on his chest.

"Thank you for your help, Captain - Shirogane," she says.

Reflexively, he opens his mouth to correct her - and then realises, belatedly, that she pronounced his name right the first time around.

"My friends call me Shiro," he says instead. Which… isn't better. Good grief, he really _is_ going to get fired.

Her lips twist a little with the effort of holding back her smile. "Do you think we're friends?"

"Actually… I'm not really supposed to be talking to you at all."

She holds his gaze for a moment, and then bites her lip. "That's a shame," she says, and sweeps away.

It takes Shiro a moment to remember that he's supposed to go after her, and by the time he figures out how to get his legs to move she's already through the door and lost in the sea of party guests.

 

When he's summoned to Iverson's office the next day, Shiro isn't even surprised. Forget getting fired: 'my friends call me Shiro' might be enough to get him court-martialled. But when he gets to Iverson's office, the Commander simply gives him a gruff 'at ease' and throws a thick briefing file and a new security badge onto the desk in front of him.

"You're being reassigned," he says shortly.

"To where?" Shiro asks.

"Princess Allura of Altea requested you personally. She wants you to be her cultural attaché."

Shiro blinks at the new ID badge and the new level of his personal security clearance. He picks up the dossier in a daze.

"Why me?" he asks. He wonders what he could possibly have done to warrant being summoned by name.

"I have no idea," Iverson says. "Apparently she likes you. For some bizarre reason."

Shiro stares at the briefing in his hands; at the labels "top secret" plastered all over it. It's everything Earth currently knows about the aliens and why they're here.

"Don't screw this up," Iverson warns him.

And that's that.

* * *

He's been with her ever since, and he hasn't regretted a moment of it. Sure, it's not flight training. And she grumbles a lot, about all sorts of things, and she doesn't read the briefings and she seems to be perpetually annoyed at humanity in general. But she's an alien. From _another world_. And every day he gets to see her and talk to her and tease her and make her laugh. Every day he gets to see the way her lips curl up at the corners when she's trying to hide a smile; the way she rolls her eyes when she pretends to be annoyed at something that actually amuses her.

She's never told him why she chose him. But they're here, now, in the Arctic wastes, and she promised she'd tell him everything.

"So," he says to her, as they sit in the canteen and sip steaming hot cocoa. A mess officer comes by and clears up their empty dinner trays, and Shiro leans forward on the table and cradles his mug in both hands.

"So?" Allura questions.

"We're here. You said you'd tell me why you asked for me."

She looks around. But the room is empty. It's late - well past usual meal times - and the cleaning staff have all disappeared into the kitchen to clear up. The shutters are down over the serving hatch, and the muffled sounds of chit-chat and washing up mingle with the tinny echo of Christmas songs coming from the kitchen radio. A few strands of tinsel and some paper chains criss-cross the ceiling, and a tiny artificial Christmas tree sits in one corner atop a small table. A few fairy lights blink on and off in the gloom.

They're alone in the dim lights, shutters drawn against the cold, and Allura smiles as she swirls the cocoa in her mug, lost in thought.

"Alright," she says eventually. She puts the mug down and folds her hands together on the table.

"This Lion that we're searching for," she says. "It's not the only one."

Shiro blinks in shock. "There are other Lions?"

A nod. "Four others, to be precise. The Blue Lion is the only one on your planet. The others are… lost. Elsewhere in the universe."

"Are they all weapons?" Shiro asks.

"Yes. Some more powerful than others. But their true power lies in the fact that all five of them can combine to form something greater than the whole. The most powerful weapon in the universe. Voltron."

She says the name in a whisper. Her voice is low; a murmur in the semi-darkness, and Shiro has to lean forward on the table to be sure he catches everything she says.

"Is this why you asked for me as your attaché?" Shiro asks. "You want me to help break the news to Iverson?"

"No. Quite the opposite. In fact… I must ask you not to tell anyone about the other Lions."

"Why not?"

She runs a finger around the rim of her mug as she considers her response. Finally, she says:

"Your people had not had any extra-planetary contact before we arrived. Indeed many of your nations are still squabbling with each other over territory. We already faced considerable problems when we landed. Some of your leaders immediately demanded to be allowed to keep the Lion if we found it. And I noticed several arguments over which country would get control of the Lion, with some considerable tensions surrounding the issue of the Lion's ownership."

Shiro grimaces. Because… it's true. Earth responded to the arrival of alien life by fighting over who would get to stand next to them in official photos. No wonder Allura is constantly annoyed at humanity.

"What do you think would happen if they found out there are other Lions?" she says. "If I told your people that more of these powerful advanced weapons exist across the universe, waiting to be discovered?"

"I think Earth would demand to keep the Lion we have here," Shiro says. It's the brutal truth; but then, she's always valued his honesty.

"I think the same thing," she says. "I think many of your leaders would say we don't need this Lion, if there are others. Some of them might ask for a Lion of their own. As it stands… Earth believes the Blue Lion is unique, and absolutely necessary for our survival. And even so, they were unwilling to let us take it."

"But you need all five of them to form this other weapon," Shiro says. "Voltron? Is that it?"

"Precisely."

"For this war you keep talking about?"

"Against the Galra Empire, yes." Her eyes darken as she speaks of them, and her fingers twist together on the table. "We have not much hope of defeating them. But with Voltron… we might stand a chance."

She glances up, and reaches across the table. Her hand rests on Shiro's; a light touch, but enough to send a jolt of warmth down his spine.

"Earth is defenceless against the Galra. Your people have nothing that can possibly challenge them. Your civilization would be wiped out. With Voltron, we could defeat them. Protect Earth, and other planets like it. There are many systems across the universe where people suffer under Galra rule. We _need_ Voltron. If your people decide to try and keep the Lion from us… your planet is not the only one that will suffer."

She withdraws her hand and picks up the mug once more. Shiro stares at her, trying to process everything she's just said. A weapon that could defend the universe against great evil. A fight against tyranny.

He wants to protest that humanity is not that short-sighted. That they won't risk being wiped off the galactic map just to keep their grubby hands on a cool toy. But the words wither and die somewhere between his brain and his throat. Of course they'll want to keep it. They'll drive a hard bargain and kick up a huge stink and there'll be a thousand 'international incidents' over the matter and when the Galra Empire drops into orbit in whatever terrifying Death Star-esque spaceships they possess humanity will still be arguing over it even as the laser beams rain down from the upper atmosphere.

Allura's right. She's absolutely right. They can't possibly be allowed to find out about the other Lions.

But that leaves the huge mystery of why she told _him_.

"This is all very interesting," he says. "But you still haven't explained why you asked for me to accompany you. Or why you told me about the Lions when you don't want the rest of my species to find out."

Her lips quirk up in a half-smile.

"The Lions are not simply mechanical objects," she explains. "They are ancient, spiritual beings. And they are somewhat temperamental. They will not allow just anyone to pilot them. Rather, they choose pilots based on certain traits."

"You've lost me," Shiro chuckles. "Is this more of your magic?"

Allura rolls her eyes. "It's not magic. Simply the manipulation of-- but forget that. The Lions are… well not _magical_ but…"

Shiro laughs, and Allura glares at him.

"Just call them magical," he says. "They're magic Lions and they're picky about who flies them, is that it?"

"Fine. They're magical Lions," she sighs, but he can tell she's not really annoyed. "And I need to find pilots for them."

"Based on personality traits?"

"It's a little more complicated than that." She chews her lip. "The Lions have a certain energy, and that energy--"

"Magic," Shiro corrects her, half-serious.

"That _energy_ ," Allura goes on, with a pointed glare in his direction that makes him grin. "The energy - or quintessence - must match with the pilot's. Because my life force is connected to the Lions, I can… sense the energy of potential pilots and identify those who might be a good match with them."

"So whilst you're here you're hoping to find a pilot for this Lion as well?"

"Not this Lion specifically," Allura says. "I already have several candidates collected for most of the Lions. Some are easier to find than others. The Green Lion, for example, prefers a pilot who is curious and inquisitive - not hard to find amongst the scientists I work with. The Blue Lion chooses a pilot who is gregarious and friendly. Again; it was not difficult to identify several likely candidates. But one Lion in particular is very difficult to match."

"Which Lion is that?"

"The Black Lion. The largest and most powerful. The Black Paladin must be able to wield such power responsibly, but they must also be able to lead Voltron when the Lions combine. They must inspire confidence and trust from their comrades, and be able to rally them in times of difficulty and hardship. Such traits are not easy to find."

Shiro sits back in his chair, mind racing. The party where they met. She was scanning the room. Meeting certain people, moving on, looking around… He leans forward in his seat again.

"The night we met," he says. "Is that what you were doing? You were looking for this… Paladin? Pilot?"

She nods. "For candidates, yes. And then I found you."

His whole brain screeches to a halt. She can't be serious.

"Me?"

"Yes, you." She laughs, her head on one side, eyes bright, multicoloured fairy lights reflecting in her hair.

"I just wanna make sure I understand you correctly," Shiro says, both hands held up in front of him. "You went to a party where you met the best and brightest our planet has to offer. Including some of the highest ranking military minds in all of Earth's armies, and several noted diplomats, and a whole bunch of politicians. And you think the best leader out of all of those people… is me?"

She smiles, and it's full of warmth and sweetness. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you have a good heart," she says. "You are kind, and smart, and perceptive, and honest. And you disobeyed several direct orders just to speak to me, which demonstrates a certain obstinate independence that I think the Black Lion will greatly appreciate."

Shiro gapes at her. It's all he can do. There's nothing he can say to any of this. He's definitely blushing, and she's definitely noticed.

"You seem surprised," Allura says.

"I am."

"You are an ideal candidate."

"Let me get this straight," he says. "You're asking me to leave Earth and come with you. To fly this Lion."

"Eventually, yes."

"You want me to travel the universe with you. On your spaceship. Flying a huge magical robot. And fighting evil."

He's grinning like a kid by the end of it. Because that is what she's asking of him. The mere thought of it makes him giddy. Forget the space programme, forget Galaxy Garrison… this is the real deal. A life of adventure and excitement and science and discovery.

With her. With Allura.

She laughs, and leans over to push his bangs away from his eyes - something she does often when she gets in a certain mood.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that part earlier," she jokes.

"Yeah, you definitely should've led with that."

"Will you do it?" she asks.

"Yes," he says, without hesitation. "Yes, I'll do it."

"See. That's the kind of decisiveness I'm looking for. We'll make a Black Paladin out of you yet."

He grins, but her smile is making him shy. He glances down at the cocoa, but it's long since gone cold. He pushes the mug aside, and Allura stands up.

"We should get some sleep," she says. "We have an early start tomorrow."

"I'm pretty sure _I'm_ supposed to be the one reminding _you_ to go to bed," Shiro says. He stands up too and stretches his arms above his head. The cold is making his muscles ache. Hopefully the living quarters will be warmer. The thought of curling up under some blankets is really appealing right now.

"I was going to say 'take some time to think about my offer'," Allura says as they make their way out of the canteen. "But you said yes straight away."

"It's alright, I'll just go and doodle pictures of myself sitting in a huge robot Lion."

She laughs, and Shiro holds the door open for her. They step out into the chill of the dome's main area. The daytime lights are dimmed, and the main illumination comes from the never-ending shimmer of the aurora dancing above them. It's late enough that almost everyone else is in bed. A few guards stand idly by the main entrance, or stroll around between the hab-units. The dome blocks out the wind, and the silence within its curved walls is broken only by the faint hum of equipment and the occasional shuffle of the guards' footsteps.

Shiro leads the way around the mess hall and the labs to the back of the dome, and up a set of steps to a doorway set several feet up the dome's wall. The doors lead out onto a covered bridge that spans the gap between the dome and the base's main living quarters. The air on the bridge is cold, and Allura huddles close to Shiro's side as they cross high above the banked snow and ice and push through the doors into the barracks.

The living quarters consist of individual rooms in a long, rectangular building raised above the ground on stilts. This deep in winter, the stilts are almost completely buried in the snow, but the building itself is warmer than the dome. A generator hums somewhere below them as they cross the foyer and take a left turn down the corridor towards their rooms.

Allura has one of the better rooms, but when Shiro fishes the key out of his pocket and opens the door for her, what he finds on the other side is still rudimentary.

"Sorry," he says, as Allura steps in and looks around. "It's a bit primitive compared to what you're used to."

"It will suffice," Allura says. She shrugs out of her jacket and throws it onto the armchair. Her personal belongings have been brought in already, stacked neatly in boxes at the end of the bed.

"It's a little cold in here, isn't it?" Allura goes on. She gravitates towards the heating unit set against one wall, and holds her hands over it.

"It should warm up soon," Shiro says. "This base doesn't usually have so many visitors in winter. They had to open up some of the rooms for us, so they're still warming up."

Allura nods. She examines the room, her hands still held up to the heater for warmth, and Shiro wonders if he should say something. Do something. But his mind is still too full of everything she said about the Black Lion, and this… Voltron weapon, and his eventual role in something bigger than himself. He decides to leave her to it.

"You need anything else?" he asks.

"No thank you."

"I'm just a couple of doors down," he says, gesturing over his shoulder towards the hallway. "Room 17. Knock on my door if you need anything."

"Alright," she glances up at him, still smiling in spite of the cold. "Goodnight, Shiro."

"Goodnight, Princess."

He closes the door behind him, and heads to his room alone.

 


	2. fey light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura's room is too cold. Shiro's room (and his hands) are nice and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompts 'hands', 'snuggles', and 'evenings'.

His room is smaller than Allura's, but not by much. There's a seating area and a desk, and a bed that's not quite a double, and a tiny window shuttered tight against the cold. The wall beside the door is occupied by a floor-to-ceiling cabinet comprised of draws, cupboards, and wardrobes, with a sideboard and some shelves on one end. A door to one side leads to the bathroom.

It's small enough to be cosy, and the heating unit whirs away in the corner and takes some of the bone-deep chill out of the air. In all honesty, it's better than Shiro's room at the Garrison. It's more like a hotel - fresh towels in the cupboards, a drinks machine and some cups, a basket of snacks on one of the shelves. His kitbag already sits on the end of his bed. He struggles out of his snow boots and makes himself at home.

 

Half an hour later, he's sitting in bed in his pyjamas, dipping biscuits in a cup of cocoa and watching tv on his tablet, thoroughly warm and cosy.

Someone knocks on the door.

He pauses the video player and puts down his mug. There's a very short list of people who could possibly be knocking at his bedroom door at this time of night, and all of them are people he has to open up to.

He sighs and gets out of bed. He pads over to the door and opens it.

On the threshold stands Allura, dressed in a pair of leggings and woolly socks and a huge oversized sweatshirt. Her hair is tied in two braids on either side of her head, and she has a shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

"My room is too cold," she says, by way of greeting.

Shiro blinks at her. "Do you want me to call maintenance?" he says.

"I already spoke with them," Allura says, a little too quickly. "They can't fix it until tomorrow."

She gazes up at him with a hopeful expression on her face, her eyes wide, brows furrowed, shoulders hunched against the chill of the corridor.

Shiro's mind races. He has options. He could go down to the night desk and find someone to fix the heater in her room, or get her a new room where the heating works, or offer to find her some extra blankets. But all those options require him to leave the warmth of his bedroom and go traipsing around a military research base in the middle of the arctic winter. And that's not nearly as appealing as the alternative option, which is very definitely a bad idea with the potential to go spectacularly wrong in any number of ways, but which is in fact the option he's going to go for, because Allura looks adorable and he's tired and it's too cold and he likes the way she plays with his hair when she gets relaxed and also… screw it.

"You wanna come in and get warm?" he says.

Allura's eyes light up, and oh yeah, this is _definitely_ dangerous territory he's venturing into right now. He stands aside and holds the door open for her, and she steps gratefully into his bedroom.

_His actual bedroom._

His heart races as he closes the door and slides the privacy lock into place. Allura stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, glancing around at the furniture and his clothes thrown on the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you," she says.

"It's alright," he replies. "I mean… it's my job to look after you, isn't it?"

She smiles at him, and he turns to the cupboard and clears his throat to hide his blush. He pulls out some extra pillows and a duvet and throws them on the bed.

"Make yourself comfortable," he says.

"In the bed?" She eyes it hopefully, but doesn't move.

"Yes, in the bed," Shiro says. "If you read the briefings you'd know that the best way to warm up in the cold is to share body heat with another person. And the bed's already warm cos I've been sitting in it."

He quirks an eyebrow at her as he says it. And she _blushes_ ; an unmistakeable flush of red that tinges her cheeks and the tips of her ears. He's never seen it before.

"Are you messing with me?" she asks, eyes narrowed.

"No," he laughs. "If you don't read the briefings you have to trust me, remember? If you want to get warm, get in the bed."

She doesn't argue, and the speed with which she scrambles under the covers makes Shiro think she was hoping for this the whole time.

"Do you want some cocoa?" he asks.

"Yes please."

He keeps his back to her as he makes the drink and fights for some kind of composure. The fact that he invited Princess Allura into not just his room but also his bed keeps replaying over and over in his head. The fact that she said yes - with evident enthusiasm - is an interesting footnote to his own foolishness. There's no way this can end well.

He is _for sure_ going to get fired. Possibly into orbit, at this rate.

When he turns around, Allura is deep under the blankets, propped up on the pillows. He passes her the mug and she has to unravel a hand to reach out and take it. She watches him through the steam of the cocoa as he climbs into the bed next to her and pulls the covers up to his chest.

They've never been this intimate before. Maybe the arctic cold isn't such a curse after all.

"Were you watching something?" Allura asks. She eyes the tablet propped up on the bed.

"Oh, yeah," Shiro says. "Just some old tv shows. You wanna see?"

He leans forward and presses play on the video. Allura sips her cocoa, eyes fixed on the screen, her face a picture.

"How did this person become trapped in a suit of armour?" she asks, at one point.

Shiro laughs. "Magic."

She shoots him a glare, but says nothing.

"This woman reminds me of you," she says, after a few moments. "Her role seems very similar to yours."

Shiro almost chokes on his own drink.

"Is that so?" he manages.

"Yes. And she serves beside an alchemist, just like you do."

"He's doing magic."

"Then why is it referred to as alchemy?"

Shiro doesn't have a good answer to that. But Allura is next to him, pressed up against his side, either oblivious to the touch of their bodies or enjoying it as much as he is. She finishes her drink and sits up to place the mug on the shelf beside the bed, and when she sits back against the stack of pillows she's just ever so slightly closer to him. Shiro lifts his arm and rests it against the headboard - just to be comfortable, of course - and she shifts again so that she's leaning against his chest.

"I can see why your briefing recommended sharing body heat," Allura remarks. "You're very warm."

"You're very cold," Shiro says. "Is that an Altean thing?"

"I think so. Our species isn't really suited to these conditions."

She turns slightly on her side so that her body is curled into his, and rests one hand on his chest. He hopes she can't feel the way his heart hammers against his ribs, but she still seems engrossed by the tv show and if she notices the hitch of his breath, she says nothing.

As an experiment, he drops his hand from the back of the bed and rests it on her shoulder. She shifts closer to him, so that her whole body is pressed flush against his side. Feeling emboldened, he tucks his arm more firmly around her shoulders, and she pulls the blankets up around her chin and makes a contented noise.

"Feeling warmer?" he asks.

She nods, eyes fixed on the screen. Like this, she doesn't look like the cool, composed Princess, or the vision of beauty he saw the first time he met her. She seems younger. More vulnerable. It's endearing.

She watches the rest of the show from inside her cocoon of blankets, making the occasional comment or observation. The hour grows late, and the lights dim to their night time mode, and her voice gets soft and quiet. The room feels breathless: warm and close, strangely intimate and yet still hesitant, the energy between them undefined and heavy with unspoken words.

After a couple of episodes, Shiro leans forward and turns off the video player.

"We should get some sleep," he says. "It's late."

Allura sits up from her blanket pile and tucks the stray strands of her hair behind her ears.

"I suppose I should go back to my room," she says, but she makes no move to get up.

And again: he has options. He could let her sleep here, and go to her room himself and deal with the cold. That would be the sensible thing to do. But it would also be colder for both of them, and the memory of the way she snuggled into his side is still blazing bright across his mind like a comet headed towards the sun. And she clearly doesn't want to leave.

"You can sleep here if you want," he says.

Her eyes light up immediately. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. I can sleep on the sofa and you can take the bed."

Yes. Good. Be professional. But her face falls.

"But you're really warm," she says. "I'll get cold in the bed on my own."

At some point in his life he's going to have to learn how to say no to her, but tonight is not that night.

"Alright," he says. "I suppose I'll get into trouble if I let you freeze to death."

"Exactly. You have to look after me."

"Better not risk it."

He grins at her. She looks delighted. He's definitely doomed.

He lets her use the washroom first, which means he has the opportunity to lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling and think about all the bad choices he's made so far this evening. Then she comes out, and it's his turn to use the bathroom. He washes his face and stares at himself in the mirror over the sink.

This is a bad idea. In fact, it's several bad ideas all rolled together into one. He needs to focus.

He'll go back into the bedroom and lie down in the bed and face away from her. Say goodnight and fall asleep. Simple as that. No more cuddling under the blankets. Respectful. Professional. He dries his face on a towel and steps out of the bathroom.

His resolve is tested immediately by the fact that Allura is lying with her back to the wall, facing the side of the bed where he'll be sleeping. His heart beats out of his chest. Focus, Takashi. Lie down. Say goodnight. Fall asleep.

"Are the lights okay like this?" he asks.

She nods, and he climbs into the bed next to her. He lies on his right side with his back to her, leaving a respectable gap between them, and pulls the covers up around his shoulders.

"Goodnight," he says, and closes his eyes.

_Patience yields focus patience yields focus patience yields--_

He opens his eyes again. Allura is shivering. He can hear the way her breath hitches, and the rustle of blankets as she rubs her hands together.

He has options, in theory. And yet none come to mind except the most obvious one.

He rolls over and looks at her.

"Are you still cold?" he asks.

She nods. "My hands. The water in the bathroom…"

Well, that makes sense. She has her hands wrapped up in the edge of the duvet, and her shoulders hunch around her ears. Shiro edges closer to her, and reaches for her hands. They're like ice, and he rubs her fingers gently between his palms.

"Better?" he asks.

"Mmm."

She shifts a little closer to him - and it's just for warmth, surely, except that her eyes glimmer in the dim lamplight and her gaze flickers from his face to his hands. There's still space between them, but only just.

"Your hands are so big," she says, and her lips twist up in a half-smile.

"No, your hands are just really small," he grins back. They're also still cold.

"You know," Shiro goes on, "they say the best way to share body heat is skin-to-skin contact."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. I just read it in the briefing."

She laughs quietly; a soft sound, something rare and private and secret. This is a side of her few people get to see: wrapped up in blankets, relaxed and at ease, more playful and unguarded than her usual composed demeanour. Shiro finds himself captivated. The shimmering blue of her eyes sends a tingle of heat down his spine. She gazes up at him, her expression soft, and he smiles back at her: the alien princess lying in his bed.

"You wanna try it?" he asks. He hitches up his sweatshirt and the t-shirt he wears underneath, and gently moves her hands down so that she can slide them up under his top.

Her hands are freezing, and he hisses through his teeth when she first touches him, but when he opens his eyes he finds her biting her lip as she looks at him and suddenly it's completely worth it.

"Sorry," Allura says.

"It's okay. Better?"

"Much," she says. Her eyes sparkle. "You're nice and warm."

He tugs his top back down over her hands, and she hums in appreciation. Her hands rest on his abdomen, just below his chest, and cold as they are the feel of her fingers pressed against his skin is still intoxicating. On a certain level he knows this is all a terrible idea, but at least one part of him is absolutely convinced that this is the best idea ever and is responding accordingly, and that in turn makes it incredibly difficult to think straight.

Allura moves closer to him, and her hands drift upwards across his chest, her fingers tracing the dip of his muscles as she goes.

"Are you looking for the warmest spot?" he asks.

She catches his grin and smiles. "I'm just interested in human anatomy, that's all," she says. Clearly emboldened, she slides one hand down to his waist and follows the curve of his abs towards his side.

Shiro gives up fighting it. There's no point. Not with Allura gazing at him like the stars have all aligned perfectly for her and her alone. Her eyes sparkle blue and pink in the darkness, warm and sweet and full of humour, and he's helpless.

He moves nearer, and slides his left hand under her neck. Allura lifts her head and resettles herself in the crook of his arm, propped up on all the pillows. Her hands press against his chest and side and _good lord_ it feels good. He pulls the covers up around them, so that they lie in a warm bubble, their faces so close together that Allura's breath warms his cheek. He rests his other hand on her hip and watches her watch him.

He longs to pull her close; to wrap his arms tight around her and feel her flush against his body. But if he does that she'll _definitely_ know what her touch does to him, and he's having enough trouble as it is trying not to poke her in the hip. It's sweet torture, having her here.

"Are you warm enough now?" he asks.

Allura nods.

"Feeling sleepy?"

A shake of her head.

Her hand on his side drifts downwards, tracing lazy shapes against his skin as she explores the feel of him. Her pinkie finger skims the waistband of his pyjama pants - and they are suddenly in very dangerous territory indeed, because if she ventures any lower there's no hiding his interest any longer.

She shifts closer, without warning. The movement catches Shiro off-guard, and as she lifts her thigh she _definitely_ feels something, because her eyes go wide and her hands momentarily still against his skin.

_Fuck_.

He blushes, although mercifully in the dark she probably won't notice.

"Uhm - sorry," he says. "That's just-- uh--"

He stops, because Allura bites her lip as she looks at him.

"Why are you sorry?" she asks.

He stares at her as his brain buffers. It's a good question. She hasn't moved away; she's still lying in the circle of his arms, fingers splayed on his bare skin, and her thigh is _right there_ and she hasn't pulled away in disgust and in fact she's looking at him like… like…

Like this is exactly what she wanted all along.

Her gaze dips to his mouth and she shifts closer, her nose brushing his, the warmth of her breath a whispered promise against his skin.

He gives up trying to think his way out of this. He leans forward and kisses her.

Her lips are soft - unbelievably so - and he brushes one light kiss against them before her mouth parts and she leans into him. Her tongue pushes against his, seeking the taste of him, and when he kisses her with more urgency she moans into his mouth. He pulls her close - one hand grasping the back of her head, the other wrapped tight around her waist - erasing the space between them, erasing the distance, drawing her into his body. Her fingers curl into his skin and she kisses him like she can't breathe without him and he realises - belatedly - that 'my room is too cold' was a line, and so was 'you're nice and warm' and 'your hands are so big' and she wants him - genuinely, desperately - as much as he wants her.

He breaks the kiss so he can pull back and gaze at her in disbelief, and she smiles at him, her breath coming in little puffs as her thumb brushes teasing circles against his skin.

"I was beginning to think humans can't take a hint," she says, her voice tinged with amusement.

"So this is why you're here?" Shiro says. It's not really a question.

She shrugs slightly, her face a picture of innocence.

"My room really _is_ cold," she says.

He grins, and rolls her over onto her back so he can gaze down at her.

"Sure it is," he says. He brushes his nose against hers and leans down to kiss her, but she pulls away.

"Are you calling me a liar?" she demands.

"Yeah, I'm calling you a liar," he chuckles.

She laughs; a sound of pure joy, of sweet, unrestrained happiness bubbling out of her. She is absolutely radiant in her delight, and she presses her lips to his in the shape of a smile.

"That is--" _*kiss*_ "--gross--" _*kiss*_ "--insubordination."

Her laugh is infectious; her joy spreading out from her like the rays of the sun rising after months below the horizon.

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Shiro says, unable to keep the mirth from his voice. He dips his hand under her top, feels bare skin under his fingers; kisses her more deeply, more desperately, as his hand finds the shape of her beneath the blankets and layers.

"You mentioned something about skin-to-skin contact," she whispers, as he leaves a constellation of kisses on her neck.

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"I think we should give it a try."

"Probably wise."

She tugs at his t-shirt; pulls it off over his head; and he helps her out of her pyjamas in between kisses. Pink marks adorn her skin like holy runes: circles and crescents and parallel dashes in symmetrical patterns across her chest and belly. When he slips a hand into her waistband and slides her leggings down her thighs he finds more marks on her hips and pelvis, leading him on like cryptic clues.

She kisses him with sweet desperation and tangles her fingers in his hair as he traces the shape of her body. She melts into his embrace and his touch, soft and needy, and the feel of her skin against his is like the kiss of the heavens; like the interaction of charged particles with magnetic field lines. The inevitable result is light and beauty and delicate swirls of colour: dark lashes fluttering shut over crystal blue eyes; fair skin against rich brown; coils of white hair come loose from her braids as she surrenders to the touch of his hands. She welcomes him with soft gasps and indrawn breaths and low moans of pleasure and she is delightful and radiant and brilliantly alive beneath him.

At some point she starts glowing, the pink marks on her body lit up like an aurora he can touch, so that shimmering light surrounds him as he moves within her. He kneels up between her thighs and traces the glow with his fingers, following a line of pink dots up the swell of her breast, and she grips his wrists and pleads for more of him as pleasure takes hold of her. And when she reaches completion, it is his name that tumbles from her lips as she arches up into his body, and that is enough to ruin him completely and send him over the edge.

He kisses his way back up her body, chasing the glow as it fades from her skin, and when he reaches her lips she pushes him over onto his back so she can repay the favour. Her fingers find the curve and bump of his muscles as she kisses lazy lines down his jaw and he runs his hands through her hair, down her back, over her thigh as she presses herself close to him.

"I've never been with an alien before," she confesses, her thumb brushing his cheek.

"That's funny," he whispers. "Neither have I."

She chuckles softly, her face buried in his neck, and he kisses her temple and runs a hand up her arm and wonders how he got here, exactly, and whether he's actually dreaming all of this. She lifts her head to look at him and brushes his hair away from his eyes.

"How long have you wanted this?" she whispers.

Honesty. She's always valued his honesty. So he tells her, truthfully:

"Since the day I met you."

It's the right answer, apparently, because her smile grows wide and bright and her eyes shimmer and she leans down to claim his lips with her own. He lets her kiss carry him back into starlight and space; lets her touch melt through him like sunshine through snow. He sits up against the pillows so she can straddle his lap, and this time when they move together it's slow and measured, drifting towards release like constellations wheeling across the sky. Her fingers tangle in his hair and he kisses the curve of her neck; and she murmurs his name against his ear as his hands find the places where her body longs to be touched. She gazes at him between kisses, and her face is soft and open and slightly awestruck, as if she can't quite believe this either. Maybe they're both dreaming - imagining each other into existence with every kiss and caress.

She clings to him as she unravels and comes apart in broken cries, and then he is done and gone, her name on his lips as he gives in to his own pleasure.

Afterwards, he lies on the pillows and Allura lies next to him, her head on his chest and her arms wrapped around him. Shiro nuzzles into her hair and runs his fingers idly up and down her back and watches the pink glow fade from the marks on her body.

"So is this the real reason why you asked for me?" he says teasingly. "Because you like my _anatomy_?"

She laughs against his chest, and sits up slightly so she can look at him.

"I really do have a Lion for you," she says.

"Are you telling me you've never used your royal influence to keep someone around just because you liked the look of them?"

She shifts under his gaze and fights back a grin.

"Maybe sometimes," she admits. "But that's not why I keep you around. Even though you are very nice to look at."

She blushes, and Shiro grins at her. Warmth settles in his chest, and he wonders how many ways he'll find to tease her about that admission later.

"Then why?"

"You are by far the best candidate I have found for the role of Black Paladin," she says. "So much so that after we met, I stopped looking entirely."

He blinks in surprise, and she smiles.

"It's true. You have it within you to be a great leader. A hero, even. I know you don't see it yet, but I do. It's here."

She places a hand over his heart. He's speechless. He never knew she saw him this way.

"I am certain the Black Lion will accept you," she goes on. "So I thought it wise for you to accompany me. To learn about my people. My culture. If you are indeed to lead Voltron, we will have to work closely together in the future. It seemed prudent to keep you by my side."

"So what's this, then?" He strokes his hand up her arm to her neck and watches the smile tug at her lips. "Were you planning to seduce me in a desperate ploy to get me to join you in space?"

"I did think about it," she laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But then you said yes straight away."

"Then what?"

Her gaze searches his face, and he wonders why he's tugging at this thread. Maybe it's because he desperately wants to believe that this is something real; that it is something tangible, not an aurora that will flicker and fade, or snow that will melt with the distant dawn.

"This is something entirely selfish," Allura says. No more, no less. But she holds his gaze, her face soft and open, her smile shy, the hint of a blush in her cheeks - and he smiles back, because she is more than he deserves. Even if she would protest that fact.

"You should get dressed," he says. "Not that I'm not enjoying the view, but… you'll get cold."

She nods her understanding, and gets up to use the washroom and change. Shiro finds himself once more lying on his bed staring at the ceiling - only this time his thoughts spiral in his head like stars forming a new galaxy.

She really honestly came to his room fully intending to sleep with him, and that fact alone is enough to fill him with giddy delight.

When she finishes in the washroom he takes his turn, and when he emerges he finds her yet again bundled up in his duvet waiting for him. He slips into the bed beside her - facing her, this time - and she immediately shifts closer.

She's rubbing her hands together again, and Shiro reaches out to grasp her cold fingers.

"The water?" he asks. She nods.

She reaches for the hem of his sweater. "Can I?"

He nods, and she slips her hands under his top and presses them against his skin. They're icy cold, and he flinches, and Allura chuckles. She's not even sorry. He's sure of it.

"How are you always so cold?" he asks, through gritted teeth.

She chuckles. "I don't know."

He wraps his arms around her nevertheless, and she settles into his embrace, hands tucked snuggly under his clothes.

He watches her watch him. They are back where they started, and yet everything is different.

"This is nice," she whispers.

"Well… we can do it again, if you want," he says. "I mean - tomorrow night. Or the night after. Or the night after that."

A slow smile spreads across her face, and she bites her lip. Someday, he'll have to tell her how endearingly cute it is, and how crazy it makes him.

"My room will probably always be cold," she says, and he laughs.

"Good point. I can't possibly let you freeze. Better not risk it."

"Exactly. I don't want you getting into trouble."

He grins, and she leans in to kiss him - soft and tired and happy, a lazy brush of lips hidden between smiles.

"You know… I probably will get in trouble for this," Shiro says.

Allura frowns at him. "You mean with Iverson?"

"Yes. I'm not really supposed to fraternise with the aliens."

"Well what's he going to do, send you to a bleak frozen wasteland?" she says with a roll of her eyes. "You're already here."

"No, he'll reassign me away from you," Shiro says. Allura's face falls.

"Well, I can't have that," she declares, every inch the Princess of Altea, despite being curled up in bed. "I'll make sure he doesn't find out."

"Probably a good idea."

She kisses him again, as if that's everything settled now, and snuggles into his arms.

"You know, if you do join me in this war--"

"You mean when."

A little laugh. "Fine. _When_ you join me, we would not have to sneak around like this."

"You're not worried about what people might say?" he asks. "Or messing with the team dynamic?"

She untucks her head from his chest so she can look at him quizzically.

"Why would I be worried about that?"

Shiro shrugs, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well… it might disrupt the team. Or be distracting. At least, that's why that kind of thing is usually discouraged on Earth."

"What a strange notion," she says with a frown. "Alteans have always encouraged close relationships between teammates. Romantic, sexual, platonic… they help people feel closer together. It's good for the team to be closely bonded. It means they care about each other."

Shiro laughs. Then he kisses her again, because he still can't quite believe that she's here.

"I think you should explain that to Iverson," he says.

"Why? Do you think he'll understand?"

"No. I just think it would be funny watching him get annoyed at the idea."

He grins at her, and she rolls her eyes at him.

"I can still go back to my own room, you know."

"Are you going to?"

"…no."

Her smile is playful, and she tucks her head against his chest and closes her eyes.

"Goodnight, Shiro," she whispers.

He plants a kiss in her hair.

"Goodnight, Allura," he says, and her name tastes like the heavens on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is as far as i got, planning-wise, with this AU, because it mostly exists as an excuse to write pre-Kerberos Shiro hanging out with Allura on Earth. plus Shallura snuggling in the cold. so i can't promise any continuation of this in fic form, but if you're interested in more of the worldbuilding details you can hit me up on my tumblr (smolsarcasticraspberry or alteanshallura) and i'll answer any questions about how the other Paladins fit into this etc. etc.
> 
> thank you so much for reading and i hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season :)


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